Slip Up
by Louisa4533
Summary: A minor slip-up on Percy's part turned into the biggest discovery of Paul's life. Uses excerpts of BotL. I don't own PJO. Oneshot.


Two days later it was my birthday.

I never advertised the date, because it always fell right after camp, so none of my camp friends could usually come, and I didn't have that many mortal friends. Besides, getting older didn't seem like anything to celebrate since I'd gotten the big prophecy about me destroying or saving the world when I turned sixteen. Now I was turning fifteen. I was running out of time.

My mom threw me a small party at our apartment.

Paul Blofis came over, but that was okay because Chiron had manipulated the Mist to convince everyone at GoodeHigh School that I had nothing to do with the band room explosion. Now Paul and the other witnesses were convinced that Kelli had been a crazy, firebomb-throwing cheerleader, while I had simply been an innocent bystander who'd panicked and ran from the scene. I would still be allowed to start as a freshman at Goode next month. If I wanted to keep my record of getting kicked out of school every year, I'd have to try harder.

Tyson came to my party, too, and my mother baked two extra blue cakes just for him.

While Tyson helped my mom blow up party balloons, Paul Blofis asked me to help him in the kitchen.

As we were pouring punch, he said, "I hear your mom signed you up for driver's ed this fall."

"Yeah. It's cool. I can't wait."

Seriously, I'd been excited about getting my license forever, but I guess my heart wasn't in it anymore, and Paul could tell.

In a weird way he reminded me of Chiron sometimes, how he could look at your and actually see your thoughts. I guess it was that teacher aura.

"You've had a rough summer," he said. "I'm guessing you lost someone important. And…girl trouble?"

I stared at him. "How do you know that? Did my mom—"

He held up his hands. "Your mom hasn't said a thing. And I won't pry. I just know there's something unusual about you, Percy. You've got a lot going on that I can't figure. But I was also fifteen once, and I'm just guessing from your expression…Well, you've had a rough time."

I nodded. I'd promised my mom I would tell Paul the truth about me, but now didn't seem the time. Not yet. "I lost a couple of friends at this camp I go to," I said. "I mean, not close friends, but still—"

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. And, uh, I guess the girl stuff…"

"Here." Paul handed me some punch. "To your fifteenth birthday. And to a better year to come."

We tapped our paper cups together and drank.

"Percy, I kind of feel bad giving you one more thing to think about," Paul said. "But I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Girl stuff."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Your mom," Paul said. "I'm thinking about proposing to her."

I dropped my cup. Instinctively, I controlled the water in the punch to make it not spill, even though I didn't catch it.

The plan of not telling Paul yet went out the window when the fruit punch didn't splatter everywhere.

He looked a little confused, and picked up the paper cup, which was still being controlled by me. I was panicking, just like at the ranch in the Labyrinth, I couldn't let go of the water. The punch was still in the cup, and had the same substance as Jell-O, thanks to me.

"What the heck?" he asked, looking in the cup. He took a risk and tried to dump it out in the sink. I frantically tried to release it, mentally shoving it away from me. Instead, the liquid, paper cup and all, wrenched itself out of Paul's hand and slammed against the wall.

I cursed loudly.

Paul looked freaked out. "Percy—"

"Mom, we have a very serious problem!" I squeaked.

She appeared in the doorway, holding one of the blue birthday cakes with lit candles. "Percy? What's the matter?"

"I can't let go," I told her, gesturing to the floating paper cup. Paul was now looking thoroughly freaked out.

Of course, the doorbell rang, scaring us all. The paper cup shot into the ceiling. Mom looked like she was trying not to laugh at my frustration and Paul's astonishment. "Paul, try not to hyperventilate for a little bit, we'll explain in a minute."

She opened the door and made a squeaking sound, blushing. Poseidon was standing in the doorway.

He was wearing Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt and Birkenstocks, like he usually does. His black beard was neatly trimmed and his sea-green eyes twinkled. He wore a battered cap decorated with fishing lures. It said NEPTUNE'S LUCKY FISHING HAT.

"Um, hello," she managed to get out.

Poseidon smiled warmly. "Hello, Sally. May I come in?"

My mom made a squeaking sound that could mean either 'yes' or 'help'. Poseidon took it as a yes and came in. He noticed Paul's freaked out expression, my mother's exasperated expression, and my expression was probably a mixture of shock and frustration.

His black eyebrows quirked up. "Am I missing something?"

All three of us pointed at the slightly smashed cup in the ceiling. "I can't let go," I explained to him. Poseidon smiled wryly and snapped his fingers. The connection between me and the punch (honestly, first the plumbing, now the punch) was severed and the cup fell into the sink, splattering punch over the general area.

Then he took me aside and we had a talk about the prophecy. And he gave me a sand dollar to 'spend'. What I'm supposed to spend a sand dollar on, I'm not entirely sure. Maybe it's common currency in Atlantis. I wondered how much a sand dollar would be worth in Atlantic currency.

Of course, then he poofed into mist and traveled out the window on a sea breeze.

After that, we had to deal with a freak out from Paul, who bombarded us, but mostly me, with questions.

"How did you do that? What did you mean that you couldn't let go? You weren't touching the cup! Why did it skyrocket into the ceiling when the doorbell rang? Who was that? What the heck is going on?!" Paul asked questions, one after another, reminding me of Rachel in her rapid-fire mode.

"Paul!" I shouted. He shut up. "Thank you," I sighed. "That was my father. His name is Poseidon."

Paul was stunned, but still blurted out (sounding like me a little bit), "The Greek god of the seas."

I nodded. "Exactly like that."

"Odd name."

I resisted the urge to smack my forehead. "No, Paul, that _is _Poseidon, Greek god of the seas, Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses, One of the Big Three."

Paul laughed. "Sally, your son's a riot. As much as I like the—" he stuttered to a stop when he saw my mom's face. "No. No, Sally, the Greek gods do not exist."

"Then how do you explain the punch? I couldn't let go of the water in the punch. I've been having a little bit of trouble with that recently," I challenged.

Paul protested. "It was a fluke!"

My mom laughed. "A floating cup as a fluke. Paul, I like you a lot, but maybe you should look at Percy's hand."

The left over punch from the sink was hovering in a little ball over my hand. "Paul, we wouldn't blame you for thinking you were nuts. I thought my trainer was nuts when he said that my parent that apparently died before I was born in a boating accident was a Greek god. Paul, I _am_ a demigod, whether or not you accept it," I said.

We'd all forgotten about Tyson. "Brother? Monopoly is out," he said, hugging me.

"Okay, big guy, we'll be there," I choked out, being strangled. He lumbered off into the living room. After a second glance at Paul, I followed.

**In the Battle of the Labyrinth, it says that Percy ****_almost_**** dropped his cup. I love seeing what one word can do to change the entire course of the story. In my rewritten version of the last chapter, Percy ****_did_**** drop his cup. And although I copied much of the chapter, this is kind of a wake-up call for reading the books. Don't get me wrong, I love those stories, but the sheer probability of everything working out is six million to one.**

**But I did enjoy writing this. I hope you guys all liked it as well!**


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